Refashioned Pt. 04

Disclaimer:

This story is just that, a story. It is a work of fiction and nothing at all to do with the real world or how to treat people in it. All the characters within it are adults. It contains descriptions of nonconsentual sex and other nasty things that should not be read by anybody under the age of 18.

______

Hurrying home, Annabel pulled off her work clothes and slipped into her workout wear. Scampering downstairs she just about managed to scrape her hair back into a messy ponytail before entering the gym.

Naomi was waiting for her.

"Sorry," Annabel began apologetically, "work was..."

The black woman cut her off instantly. "You are late," Naomi announced sternly.

Annabel stopped in her tracks, gaping open mouthed at the fitness instructor, the excuses dying on her lips. She was completely taken aback by this unexpected reaction to her tardiness.

"You are late, Annabel," Naomi repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Yes Naomi," Annabel responded, deeply unsettled by the black woman's harsh manner.

"We have been waiting," Naomi continued brusquely, her voice cracking like a whip. "I have been waiting. Jess has been waiting. You have wasted our time."

She felt her eyes moisten as Naomi fixed her with a withering glare.

Annabel didn't dare say anything. The best she could manage was a tearful nod of agreement.

"Jess and I have fully committed to this training," the black woman pressed. "We have made sacrifices to be here."

Guilt welling up inside her, Annabel sniffed as she acknowledged the words. Naomi was right. She had let them down. Naomi had generously offered her expertise to help her and she had disappointed her.

Locking Annabel in an intense stare, Naomi continued harshly. "Are you fully committed to your training?"

She was crying now. "Yes Naomi," she simpered, the disgrace of her actions painful.

The severe woman regarded her coldly for long moments, the silence driving home just how much she had let the others down.

The black woman pursed her lips before speaking. "You are weak," Naomi sneered contemptuously.

Tears flowed freely down her burning cheeks as the shame consumed her.

"The key to success is self discipline. Discipline gives us strength. Discipline allows us to achieve our goals. Discipline is the key to happiness."

"Yes Naomi," Annabel wept, utterly humiliated by her weakness. Naomi was right. It was all true. She was weak. All the bad choices she'd made. Everything bad that happened in her life was due to her lack of self discipline.

"Tell me what you need Annabel," the black woman pressed.

"Discipline," she wailed, wallowing in the despair that consumed her.

"Without discipline we are nothing more than slaves to every passing whim," Naomi asserted forcefully. "Without discipline we are slaves to our desires. Without discipline we are just slaves to our irrational urges."

Nodding her complete agreement, Annabel hung on her every word.

"I am a slave. Jess is a slave. We will always be slaves," Naomi pressed. "But we have discipline. We know what we are. We have accepted that fact. You have not."

The pain was unbearable. Annabel felt like a complete failure. She sobbed uncontrollably. Everything Naomi said was true. She was pathetic. The shame burned.

"Until you completely commit to your training and until you fully embrace discipline, you will always be unhappy," the black woman declared.

Annabel nodded in silent agreement as the powerful black woman's piercing eyes continued to bore into her.

"But we have not given up on you Annabel. You can still be happy," Naomi continued, her tone softening. "You want that, don't you Annabel?"

Lurching desperately, Annabel grasped the lifeline being offered to her. Naomi was still offering to help her! Perhaps all was not lost? Could she regain Naomi's trust? Would the black instructress permit her to continue her training?

Annabel knew the next few words would define the course of her life. She had to make a choice; loveless misery or happiness and joy.

She didn't hesitate.

"Yes!" she gasped excitedly, wiping away the tears, firmly embracing the salvation being offered to her.

"Good," Naomi replied, her tone lighter. Did Annabel detect a faint hint of praise? "Tell me what you are, Annabel. Tell me what you will always be."

"A slave," she whispered hoarsely, the word just forming on her lips without conscious thought on her part.

"Good girl," the ebony woman responded, her eyes sparkling with approval. Her eyes drying, Annabel managed to muster a weak smile in return. "Say it again."

"I'm a slave," Annabel repeated, louder now, her confidence returning as Naomi smiled encouragingly.

Her tears had stopped. Annabel drank the praise hungrily. She had learned something important about herself tonight. Something that would change her whole outlook on life.

"Yes Annabel," her powerful instructress declared. "You are a slave. You will always be a slave."

"I am a slave," Annabel sighed contentedly at the words. "I will always be a slave."

The crisis had passed. Naomi had given her a second chance. She resolved not to squander this opportunity. The pain had reminded her just how helpless and lost she would be without her training. Everything depended on it.

"Again," the black woman commanded.

"I am a slave. I will always be a slave," she announced clearly and crisply.

"Very good Annabel," Naomi smiled, pleased by her answer.

"It is time to resume your training."

______

Drowsily Annabel basked in the afterglow of their passionate lovemaking. She had never realised just how turned on she was to be the submissive one in a relationship. Letting Lauren take charge and dominate her as she squirmed helplessly beneath her onslaughts felt amazing. She was so lucky to have someone who didn't judge her.

Now safe and secure, she lay on the bed, breathing in Lauren's scent as she hugged her close. Her earlier unsettling encounter with Naomi seemed like another age not just a couple of hours ago.

But Annabel knew she had learned an important lesson tonight. She understood everything now. And that understanding, along with her physical proximity to her wonderful girlfriend, made her content.

"So," Lauren gently whispered into her ear as Anabel gazed back at her beautiful face, her eyes half lidded with sleep, "how was your training tonight?"

"Mmmm good," Annabel murmured, her thoughts soft and squishy as she slowly sank deeper into complete relaxation.

"Very good," Lauren soothed. "You like to be trained, don't you Annabel?"

A smile flickered across her face as Annabel's docile brain registered the words. "Yesss..." she sighed happily.

"Excellent," her girlfriend continued. "Naomi is a wonderful instructress. You must always do as she says. The training is for your benefit."

Her mind cotton wool, Annabel smiled in reply, agreeing wholeheartedly. She knew it was true. Naomi was helping her. She would do as she was ordered. Happiness came from following instructions.

"And what did you learn in your training tonight?" Lauren continued, gently stroking Annabel's hair, her smile widening as the drowsiness took over, eyelids sinking lower and lower.

Thinking clearly was such an effort now. An impossible task. How could she explain to Lauren the revelation she had had? The solution to every problem. Discipline. She needed discipline. Discipline made her happy. How could she make her understand? It was so difficult to explain. Annabel struggled with the words, tongue-tied, unable to formulate the sentences that would reveal everything to her beloved.

"Slave," she breathed contentedly, happy to have dredged the answer from the cloying softness of her mind, her eyes now firmly shut.

"I am a slave," Annabel slurred. "I will always be a slave."

"Very good Annabel," Lauren purred once more, her tender caresses lulling her deeper and deeper into sleep. "This is True. You know it to be True. Say it again."

"I am a slave. I will always be a slave," she sighed contentedly, accepting the words as her Truth.

"Wonderful," Lauren praised, as Annabel lay passively and allowed her lover to tighten the headset over her head.

______

Blue lights flickered before her as her mind empty mind basked in the blankness she had come to crave.

The hissing noise lulled her deeper down into blissful trance.

A tone sounded in her ears. Automatically, Annabel opened her eyes but did not awaken.

The comforting sapphire glow that she had wallowed in was gone. The spiral twirled, quickly sucking her unfocussed gaze into the centre.

The whispers that had murmured into her mind vanished, replaced by a new, vaguely familiar Voice.

The Voice spoke clearly, the tone authoritative.

It reverberated deep inside her sleepy brain.

Truths were being revealed to her.

The Voice spoke. She responded.

"I am a slave," she murmured softly, her lips moving of their own accord, responding to the Truth.

Annabel fell deeper into the spiral, the words of the Voice embedding themselves deep into her subconscious mind.

Her chanting was no louder than a soft whisper in the darkened room, going unheard by the woman she shared her bed with.

"I will always be a slave," Annabel recited thoughtlessly.

______

The drudgery of this job never ended Annabel thought, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Yet more buck-passing today as middle management sought to avoid blame for yet another screw up. How in God's name had the company survived so long? The organisational dysfunction was appalling and a major factor in the rate of staff turnover.

But career issues were not on her mind today. She had woken today refreshed full of joy in her beautiful girlfriend's arms. Naomi and Jess had been all smiles, last night's incident completely forgotten, as Annabel had eagerly embraced the early workout session.

It was only when she sitting at her desk, pecking at the keyboard, automatically updating the database without actually having to consciously think about it, that she had had a chance to run through everything that had happened last night.

The residual pangs of guilt and shame were still there. She had disappointed Naomi and Jess. But they had forgiven her.

Annabel had resolved never to let that happen again.

But what really caught her imagination was something Naomi had said yesterday.

Just a single word.

Slave.

For some reason it seemed to be stuck in her head, rolling around in her thoughts as she typed.

Slave.

At first, she had tried to ignore it, hoping it would fade into the background like the perpetual, reassuring sexual throb that glowed from the turtlenecks she now wore day and night.

Reaching up, she lightly brushed her hand against the material covering her neck, shuddering lightly as the familiar wave of pleasure rolled over her mind and body.

Smiling to herself as the pulse of erotic joy subsided, replaced by the simmering background arousal that was her constant companion.

A perfectly normal feeling. As she well knew.

Slave.

The word returned. Only now it seemed bigger, more prominent in her consciousness.

Slave.

Every time it popped into her head it seemed to grow and grow in importance.

Slave.

At a rational, logical level Annabel was puzzled, even disturbed by her fixation on this particular word.

Slave.

But it produced a wholly different reaction in other parts of her mind.

Slave.

It was turning her on.

Slave.

Like the best sex with Lauren.

Slave.

Hot. Wet sex.

Slave.

Dirty like internet porn.

Slave.

Helpless, exposed, fucked. Squealing in delight as she was used. Pleasing the gorgeous woman who she loved so much.

One of Annabel's hands drifted from the keyboard, rising to her neck.

It was less than twenty minutes to lunch.

______

Smiling at Naomi and Jess, Annabel entered the gym five minutes before the evening training session was due to begin.

Nodding brightly, the black woman greeted the new arrival with a curt nod, signalling that she was now in charge.

Annabel found herself moving towards Jess, standing beside the redhead, waiting expectantly for Naomi to tell them what tonight's routine would involve.

"Good," the ebony instructor started. "Before we begin, I want to clarify our goals. Without clarity we can get distracted, lose focus and waste our time and energy on doing something that doesn't matter."

Nodding in agreement, Annabel knew that she was right.

"Firstly, we are responsible for our actions and decisions," Naomi pressed firmly. "Without self-discipline we will not be able to achieve our goals. Discipline is the foundation upon which we will build a happy and fulfilling life."

Annabel felt herself bobbing her head once more to her instructress.

"Secondly, we are constantly surrounded by distractions," Naomi continued with certainty. "We are slaves to our desires and whims. We will always be slaves. It is impossible to escape this fact. But, with discipline, we can become better and more fulfilling slaves."

The slave word triggered something within her. Annabel felt the heat bloom within, flushing as she felt her arousal spike.

Naomi's eyes were staring into her own, locking her gaze.

"Do you understand Annabel?" she asked directly.

Swallowing hard to suppress her need, Annabel responded quickly. "Yes Naomi."

Turning now to Jess, Naomi addressed her directly. "What do you need?"

"Discipline," the woman standing alongside her asserted clearly.

"Correct," their instructor agreed. "What are you? What will you always be?"

"I am a slave," Jess announced, her voice loud. "I will always be a slave."

"Good," the intense woman agreed. "You need discipline. You are a slave. You will always be a slave."

Annabel was struggling hard to quell the urge to bury her hand between her legs and masturbate shamelessly in front of the two women. Naomi's gaze flicked towards her.

"Annabel, what do you need?"

"Discipline," she replied, her voice shaking.

"Correct." Naomi's expression was inscrutable but her eyes blazed with a fanatical intensity that would have made Annabel recoil in horror only a few weeks ago.

But not now.

"What are you? What will you always be?"

"I am a slave," she shivered, unable to keep the telltale quaver of arousal from her voice. "I will always be a slave."

It felt so good to say it aloud, the torrid pleasure burning through her, branding her new identity deep within.

"Very good Annabel," the black woman praised, her eyes glowing with ardently. "You need Discipline."

Annabel shuddered as Naomi's words sank in, the ebony woman's remorseless gaze fixed upon her.

"You are a slave," her instructor continued, slowly drawing out the final word of the sentence, as Annabel stared enraptured into Naomi's hypnotic eyes, fire blazing brightly within. "You will always be a slave."

______

Eyes wide, she followed the spiral as it twirled endlessly before her. Annabel was deeply asleep but her mouth was in motion. Words spilled out.

"You are a slave. You will always be a slave," the Voice insisted.

Automatically, Annabel recited the Truths that had been burned into her receptive mind.

"I am a slave," she murmured softly. "I will always be a slave."

Her eyes tracked the sprial, following it to the centre, dissolving into nothingness.

"You are a slave," the Voice repeated. "You will always be a slave."

Annabel's weak focus now moved to the edge of a reborn spiral, already preparing to twirl its way into oblivion.

"I am a slave. I will always be a slave," Annabel mouthed in agreement.

______

Lauren arched an eyebrow. The silence hung heavily between them. Each long, lingering moment was pure torture for Annabel, the rhythm of her pounding heart unbearably loud in the bedroom, intensifying her torment.

"So..." Lauren asked carefully, weighing each word, testing its meaning before speaking it aloud. "You want to be my slave?"

Cheeks scarlet with embarrassment, Annabel nodded slowly, tears welling up. She had made a terrible mistake. All day the idea had consumed her, driving her wild, taking root in her brain, growing in intensity. Her earlier experience with Naomi during the training session, the sheer overwhelming erotic thrill of speaking the truth aloud, had transformed the word from an abstract concept into something more concrete. Solid.

Their post-workout lovemaking had been almost violent with passion. Annabel had never felt so desperate to release the heat that had built up all day. Lauren had been quite happy to oblige.

Now, their ardour spent, exhausted, the pair lay on the bed cuddling, staring into each other's eyes. Lauren had sensed something was wrong and had asked her directly.

The more cautious part of Annabel's mind had told her to stay quiet, say nothing and think this over. Impulsively, she had ignored that instinct. Instead she had revealed her new desires to her lover.

But the silence between them had an ominous feel. Annabel quailed. She had gone too far! She'd shocked, even horrified Lauren.

The woman she loved must think Annabel was a freak. A demented deviant. A pervert.

She braced for Lauren to push her away in disgust, storm out of the bedroom and out of her life forever.

Her eyes were moist, the first of many tears rolling down her cheek.

Lauren smiled, reaching out with her hand, dabbing it away tenderly as Annabel's heart fluttered with newfound hope.

"Shh," Lauren whispered. "Don't worry babe. I love you. Nothing will ever change that."

Brightening instantly, Annabel smiled, the tears of pain being replaced by tears of joy.

"It's ok," Lauren reassured her.

Annabel cried, feeling the depth of connection she had with the woman who loved and understood her.

Lauren said nothing more and allowed the tears to fall.

Slowly the emotion subsided.

"There," Lauren comforted, "feel better?"

Nodding, she smiled back, happy and utterly content.

"Everything is perfectly fine Annabel," Lauren told her. "This is all quite normal."

"You've suppressed your true self for so long," her lover smiled. "All those years lurching from one meaningless relationship with man after man, looking for the validation that they could never give you, has led to you denying your own needs."

Annabel bobbed her head in complete agreement. It was all true! She had wasted so much of her life trying to please the men she had felt love towards. Now she knew better.

"So now that you have the chance to express your sexuality openly, without having to constantly live a lie, it's only natural that your submissive side should take over."

Lauren was right. All the lies she had told herself over the years were over. She was safe in her girlfriend's arms.

"Being submissive and wanting to be a slave is just another part of your newly liberated identity," Lauren went on. "I'm so glad that you trust me enough that you can reveal these perfectly normal desires to me."

"But..." Lauren paused. "I need time to think about your request. This is a life-changing step. Once you become a slave then you will always be a slave. There is no going back. You will be a slave forever. You do know that?"

Her cheeks burning, Annabel nodded eagerly, the flames of desire licking at her moist slit, as she accepted the absolute truth of Lauren's words.

"Good," Lauren responded evenly, her meaningful eyes glistening with something deeper than love. "We'll talk about this again tomorrow evening."

______

Annabel mewled, losing herself in the fantasies that were her life. She was alone in her bedroom, her fingers circling the fiery contours of her inflamed cunt as she pawed frantically at her tits, riding the waves of pleasure that crashed over her, dulling the edge of the fears and anxieties that had threatened to overwhelm her for the past two days.